Park & Eleanor
by whynotcheese
Summary: He was still drunk on her. Every aspect of her still got him in ways he couldn't quite capture. And although time had past, and time is supposed to heal all wounds, he wasn't over her yet. He could never get over her. It sounded like such a terrible thing to do to such a beautiful thing between them. So no, he hadn't moved on. He couldn't bring himself to. He had too much hope.
1. Chapter 1

_**park**_

It stung a little less every time he heard her name now. Even after all these years, she'd managed to stick with him. Every time he'd think about those comic books it stung a little less. When he heard "Love Will Tear Us Apart", he found himself cringing less and less. The knife in his head with her name on it had dulled down. Now, the pain of her was bearable. He hardly thought of her anymore.

His mother was always saying something about her coming back. Park brushed it off, used to it now, but he still had that little glimmer of hope inside of him that she was right. He didn't really think about it that much, though. He hardly thought of her anymore.

He still saw girls with that mop of hair. Of course, none of them had fishing lures in them, but they still sparked something inside of him. Those curly mops were becoming more and more popular and that began to worry him. But it didn't matter when those same girls wore a tie, or an array of scarves on their wrists. It didn't hurt as much. He hardly thought of her anymore.

That postcard was on his wall. After praying over it what felt like a thousand times, he decided that he needed to stop crying over it, more literally than metaphorically. Because there's no use crying over spilt milk. Or those three words on the back. But none of that mattered. He hardly thought of her anymore.

He was still with Cat. She gave him what he needed, and that was enough to get him by. Whenever he was sad, he had Cat. Whenever those thoughts began to haunt him, he had Cat. Because who was he kidding. He thought of her all the time.

But love didn't really exist. No one could ever compare to her. He figured his parents were just really fortunate, and that was the only reason they were still together. He didn't love Cat. He couldn't bring himself to love Cat. But he loved Eleanor.

Eleanor.

_Eleanor._

Fuck. He still loved her.


	2. Chapter 2

**_park_**

He found himself picking up the paper that morning. It was heavy in his hands. Since she left, he found himself reading the paper. He'd skim the articles for her name. He'd read through the marriages and obituaries to see if someone related to her was in them. So he almost choked when he saw it.

_"…has died of a severe case of Mallory-Weiss syndrome. The funeral will be next Friday at 7. All are welcome." _

Park's mind worked to translate what was being said. Cat was taking a medical course. She'd made him read out of Grey's Anatomy book because she was too lazy to do it herself. And then it hit him; a Mallory-Weiss tear was a tear of the stomach. He remembered back to when he kicked that icy sludge into his mouth after she'd left. Did he swallow a rock or something? Did Park essentially kill Richie?

A smile crossed his face. She would've thanked him. He would sweep her up in his arms and they'd run off into the sunset together. It'd be great. She'd tell him how she loved him and he'd just place kisses all over her like he'd been longing to do.

But then he had a thought. Even though she hated Richie, she loved her mom. At least to the extent of his knowledge he did. And she was still with Richie up until now. What if she came back for his funeral? What if he got to see her again? To touch her even?

Sometimes he hated himself for bringing her back again.


	3. Chapter 3

**_eleanor_**

Every fiber of her being fought with her as she loaded up the bag. All of her cells screamed for her to run back inside. The sciatic nerves, what of them were left, had resorted to giving her healthier alternatives. Maybe she could find a box of Twinkies. Maybe she could write a novel. Maybe she could run a mile. No, she wouldn't be doing that.

The internal battle kept on as she looked over at her nightstand. Her now outdated walkman was peeking above the drawer. She'd tried her hardest to remember any of the mix-tapes that Park had made for her. Of course, luck hated her. She remembered what she could and put it on a tape. Fortunately, that small collection was enough to get her through everything that happened after she left.

On an impulse grab, she shoved the walkman into her bag along with a pack of batteries. She could just see how Ben or Maisie would look at her when they saw it. But she couldn't blame herself. She had to prepare herself somehow, right?

It was like she could already feel him. Like she was already blanketed in solely his memory. Knots wound up in her stomach.

But what if she really did see Park? What if Park was with another girl? Would she be jealous? Obviously.

She fought with her subconscious to change the subject.

Her poor mother must be a wreck.

She could vividly remember the call they'd shared when she first ran away. Her mother's voice was cracked, and it sounded as if Richie had drained all of the life from her. And at that moment in time, she felt terrible about leaving. But then again, some saint (who she'd definitely be high-fiving if she ever found out who that might be) had made it much easier on her once she'd left. Richie was a huge weight on her mother's shoulders, it seemed. And now that he was gone, she was free. Eleanor might even get to move back home, if you could call that hellhole a home. Although she doubted the kids would take it lightly, she hoped they'd want to support their mom like Eleanor did. Her mother really needed it.

That in mind, Eleanor grabbed more clothes. She knew that she'd be staying as long as her mother was willing to have her, whether that was a good idea or not.


	4. Chapter 4

_**park**_

He shouldn't be doing this to himself. This was torture. He had gotten over her, right? That was, god, that had to have been about 5 years ago. 5 years was a long time. What if she didn't remember him? What if she didn't recognize him? What if she didn't even see him? What if he didn't see her?

No. No, he was definitely going to see her. He was going to feel that pain. He was going to let the band aid finally be ripped clean off. If not for him, for all those who heard him cry and complain for months at a time.

He wanted this. He needed this. He required this.

_**eleanor**_

She decided that she didn't want to do this anymore a fraction of a second too late. When the engine revved and the doors locked, she almost immediately regretted letting herself go through this.

But she was going to do this. It would be healthy, right? It would give her some of that much needed closure that her aunt claimed she needed. So maybe it would be good for her. It might be _really _good for her. They could go out for lunch, catch up, maybe watch a movie or something. It would be really nice to see him again, she already knew.

But deep down, she knew the truth. She was Hitler and he was Europe. Seeing him would just be an appeasement. But that would only make her want him more. She'd want all of him. And it would bring her to a terrible, terrible end.


	5. Chapter 5

**_eleanor _**

Gas stations always mocked her. She always hated it when they stopped at gas stations. They interrupted her sleep with bright lights and loud noises. They made her hungry with their tempting Twinkies. They killed the time that she could be doing something better in, rather than hopelessly trying to pee. So she didn't like them very much. But for once in her life, she appreciated the gas station. Because now, stalling was good. The magazines hanging on the wall were good. The overly clichéd books on the bookshelf were good. They all meant that her uncle would just take longer to leave.

She finally gave up waiting on all of them to come out of the bathrooms. She left the convenience store, heading out to her comfortable seat in the van. With a sigh, she found her cassette player. Sliding the headphones on, she let the nostalgia fill her veins.

"_Take my hand. You know I'll be there if you can, I'll cross the sky for your love._"

_**park**_

Over the years, Cat had come to appreciate Prince. Park used to say that it had take her long enough. She made him sit and watch all of his movies with her. She would make his songs play at Drastic Plastic and it made Park a little sick to the stomach. He was very rapidly getting Prince'd out.

But he did like one song; "Purple Rain" obviously. It was like Prince's theme song. But Park really did generally like it. It always made him think of Eleanor.

Back when they were in the Impala, back when it still wasn't technically okay for Park to be driving, back before all of it happened, that song was playing on the radio. When Park discovered that Eleanor's entire body was candy-sprinkled, those carefully placed riffs were serenading them. When Park had finally gotten to see what was behind that damn long zipper, those oddly comforting lyrics were being shared with the Omaha City listeners. When Park stopped himself from wholeheartedly ripping her pants off, Prince himself seemed to be egging them on.

So he guessed Prince was alright if you listened to the right song.

He wondered if Eleanor had heard that song since.

He wondered if it made her think of him, too.


	6. Chapter 6

_**park**_

The biggest mistake Park had arguably ever made was letting the funeral slip when he was talking to Cat. Immediately, she was asking if she could go. Park needed to do this on his own. Okay, maybe with his parents and Josh, but primarily on his own. Cat would do more than just weigh him down. Cat even being there would be like shitting on a bible. So he had to tell her no. He had to put his foot down and draw the line in the sand.

"Who is it even that's died? Do I know them?"

"Cat, I don't think you should go." She just looked at him. "Cat?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, it's kind of a family thing, you know? I don't really know what my mom would say if I brought you."

"She'd say 'Oh, Cat, nice to see you! Your hair lovely. You use shampoo I give you?'" This wasn't getting any easier.

"Really, Cat, I don't think you should go. Plus, who's going to watch over DP on a Friday night?" She shrugged, crossing her arms. "See? So maybe it would be better if you stayed."

"Why do you not want me to go so badly?"

"It's not that I don't want you to go, it's just—it's kind of complicated, and I don't think you'd like it very much there." She sighed.

"Alright. I don't have enough energy to fight with you anymore. Just take me home." Park internally high-fived himself and put the car in gear. That's one battle down. One more to go.


	7. Chapter 7

**_eleanor_**

She always thought it smelled just before you entered that house. There was just something so unsettling about the sent it gave off. Like malt balls and old hymnals. It was like the sent was trapped in the door, so whenever you entered, it was like someone dumped a crate of records on your face.

But that smell gave her a sense of comfort now. It let a wave of nostalgia wash over her and she couldn't help but smile a little. And she realized just how much she needed this.

"Mom…?" She heard a gasp. Before she could process it, someone had nearly crushed her.

"Eleanor," she heard her mother say, petting her hair. "Oh my god, I've missed you." Eleanor hugged her mother back, the two of them standing there in front of the still door-less bathroom.

"Sabrina—"

"Mommy!" They were both flocked with little children. Little arms wrapped between Eleanor and her mother.

"Geoffrey? Susan?"

"Sabrina, we're so sorry about Richie." Her mother took a knee, looking over all of her children. Silent tears were falling like rain.

"Ben," she said. "Maisie… Mouse…" she began sobbing, "Little Richie…" Richie was soon wrapped in her arms, falling victim to the waterworks she'd managed to contain. "You're so big." Little Richie's saucer eyes made Eleanor snort. "You were just a baby when—"

"You made cookies?!" Ben was plagued with a one-track mind.

"Cookies!"

With a chuckle, her mother wiped her tears and rose to her full height. She still towered over Eleanor, despite the small hunch she'd began to develop. With all of the children gone (Eleanor _wasn't_ a child), Geoff wrapped her mother in a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Sabrina." Sobs racked through her, and Geoff struggled to hold himself together. She had a terrifyingly stiff upper-lip, but this was admittedly hard for Eleanor to watch, adult or not. It was like seeing that one person who seemed to have this impenetrable strength crumble. She cringed just thinking of the angsty flashbacks this was going to give her.

"Eleanor!" Maisie called. "I saved you a cookie!" Susan waved a hand at her, wholly relieving her from duty. Waves of relief ran through her as she managed to get past her mother and Geoff and into the kitchen.

Maybe being a kid wasn't so bad after all. You were always trapped in ignorant bliss.


	8. Chapter 8

_**eleanor**_

She scratched at the dress.

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever worn."

"Eleanor, I let you wear whatever you want on a daily basis. Could you just wear a nice dress for once in your life?" Her mother shook her head. "It's a _funeral_, Eleanor." She rolled her eyes, watching in the mirror as her explosive hair was tamed into a ponytail. Eleanor picked at the hem of her dress.

"Can I at least wear leggings?"

"No."

"Tights?"

"Nope."

"Pantyhose?"

"Eleanor it's the middle of summer." Eleanor rolled her eyes.

"What about Doc's?"

"You still own Doc Martens?"

"Seriously, Mom? That's insulting." Her mother chuckled, Eleanor feeling the vibrations in her back. Eleanor's eyes ran over the floor. She could feel her mother's warm eyes on her, but she didn't want to look into those sad eyes until she had to.

"Are you going to stay for the school year?" Eleanor tensed up. "I know you've got all of the drama with that boy you were with, but what about your one friend, uh, Tina?" She began to have unnerving amounts of flashbacks. Her mind raced as she began to think about all those people.

DeNice.

Beebi.

Steve.

Tina.

_Park._

"Mom—"

"Mom!" They heard. "Uncle Geoffrey and Aunt Susan are here!" She finally looked into her mother's eyes.

"We better go, then." Eleanor rose to her feet. "We'll continue this later, okay?" Eleanor just nodded. She didn't want to say anymore on the topic. She just wanted this day to be over already.


	9. Chapter 9

**_park_**

He could feel his pulse in his ears. His fingers tapped gingerly at the tips, the light pink rapidly becoming a vibrant red.

He shouldn't be this nervous. He couldn't actually be this nervous. This had to be unhealthy.

His fingers looped under his tie. The collar seemed to be getting its revenge on him, the chaffing tie rapidly becoming a choker.

He didn't know why he was so nervous. She probably wouldn't even look at him, assuming that she'd even be there. And even if she did notice him, chances were that she wouldn't acknowledge that she had. He knew that. So why was he still nervous?

Oh. Right.

_Anxiety._  
"Park!" He panicked. "Come on!" He gulped. His feet rushed out the door, struggling not to hide underneath each other.

"There you are," his father said as he walked into the living room. "You're not wearing your make up."

"I'm not?" Park patted under his eyes. "Can you guys just wait a second? I'll be right back—"

"Come here," his mother told him, her hands gripping his shoulders. "Your tie tight. Let me fix it." A relief ran through his neck as the choking tension began to slip away.

"Josh!"

"What?" Park nearly jumped out of his skin as Josh appeared behind him.

"Okay, the family's all here." His father grabbed his mother's hand. "Let's go."


	10. Chapter 10

**_park_**

He thought it was bad before the was there. No, now it was legions worse. His hands were pouring out sweat, the heat once confined to his ears spreading out into his now fiercefully pale face. He could only imagine how terrible he must look.

He almost didn't want to see her.

**_eleanor_**

Hope flickered falsely inside of her. She was practically yelling at herself to give up on him. He wasn't going to show up here and she knew it. And anyways, _she was in a fucking dress_. She didn't want him to see her like this.

What would he say if he _did_ show up? What would he think when he saw her in a dress? What would he think about her ponytail?

Why did she care?

Oh. Right. Now she remembered.

**_park_**

"Why your ears red?" He rubbed at his ears.

"I dunno." He scratched at his nape.

"You ready to see Big Red?" He cringed at the sound of her nickname.

"'Course he is. He wants to stick it in."

"Josh," his father scolded. Park felt himself redden. "Park, don't ever 'stick it in' Eleanor." The blush in his cheeks rose again. _If only he knew about when Park took her home._ "Mindy, tell Park not to 'stick it in' Eleanor."

"I'm not saying that," she replied, fluffing at her hair. Park breathed roughly, trying to smuggle out his nerves. Park's father opened the door. Park almost choked.

**_eleanor_**

Her face was beginning to ache. Feigned smiles made your face sting after a while, she found.

Eleanor sighed. Her eyes found her mother. She was hugging some woman Eleanor didn't even know, both of their eyes brimming with tears. Eleanor's face hardened.

Her mother didn't deserve this. She should even be at this funeral, much less be one of the lead mourners. But who was she kidding, her mother didn't even deserve to have to put up with Richie this long.

But every ending is a new beginning. And Eleanor was overly grateful for this ending.

She just hoped she would get to shake whoever killed Richie's hand.

_**park**_

There she was. Holy shit. It was actually her. This was real.

Fuck.

This was real.

Park didn't know if he was ready for this or not.

But she did look nice. Her hair looked like a big red pom-pom, and he didn't quite know how he felt about that.

Wait, was that a dress? Was she actually _wearing a dress_? She _owned_ a dress?

No, that proved it. This is all fake. She's fake. This is a dream. This couldn't be real.

But _damn._ She looked amazing. And those _legs._

She should wear dresses more often.

_**eleanor**_

Her cheeks tinged with pain as yet another person shared their condolences.

She didn't even like Richie, and Richie sure as hell didn't like her. So why was she here?

She knew the answer to that. She was the crutch. Everyone leaned on her because if they got emotional and had to duck out, she could cover for them.

She sighed. Responsibility was a bitch.

Her eyes fanned the line that snaked up to her. Some of the faces caused a flicker of recognition go through her, but most just gave off nothing. She sighed again.

Wait, was that Park? _The_ Park? Park as in the guy with the unsettling eyeliner and the angsty outlook on life? (Minus the angst. Minus the eyeliner.)

Fuck. Shit. Hell. Ass. Piss.

She ran out of curse words.

Her eyes looked up again, trying to see where Park was in line. But, before she could look for him, her eyes met a pair of brown ones.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."


	11. Chapter 11

**_park_**

His hands were still shaking. He'd actually _talked_ to her. It was just a 'hi', but still. It was actually _her_. She was actually _real_.

Or was she? Was his mind just playing cruel tricks on him?

Probably. That was his luck.

_**eleanor**_

She felt electric. To start out so shitty, she was surprised at how quickly the day had become legendary.

_Park._ She could still hear him in her head. His touch still burned on her fingertips.

Did she shake his hand? She thought she did. Everything had gone a little blurry. Maybe his fingers had just grazed her dress or something.

_Her dress._ She'd gotten so caught up in Park that she'd forgotten she was even wearing clothes at all.

She walked into her mother's room.

That was one of the things that had changed since she left; all of the doors were missing. Richie had been lenient enough to let a thin sheet hang over some of the empty doorframes, but the majority of them were hollow openings. She snorted to herself. That sounded like some pathetic metaphor for life.

Richie would hate it if she'd said that.

He'd probably buy doors for them just so she'd be wrong.

**_park_**

He wondered if Eleanor was thinking about him. He was thinking about her. He couldn't _stop_ thinking about her. She made his eyes crawl and his skin twitch. He loved her. He was addicted to her. He was having terrible withdrawals from her. And this was probably why he didn't talk to girls anymore; he didn't want to have that kind of attachment to anyone else but Eleanor.

He needed to stop being so damn cliché.


	12. Chapter 12

_**eleanor**_

"Eleanor," her mother called. She shook her head. She had to stop thinking so much.

"Yes?" Her mother have her an eerily sincere look. Eleanor felt an instinctive clench rise in her stomach. That was the same look her mother gave her when she told Eleanor about her engagement to Richie.

"Remember-" she looked down at Eleanor's dress. "Let me help you with that." Her mother walked behind her.

"What were you about to say?" Her mother sighed, the air fanning across Eleanor's neck.

"I have good news and bad news."

"Good news." She knew her mother would ask.

"You, uh..." she paused, more air huffing from her mothers nose inaudibly, "you don't have to worry about deciding whether or not to go to school here." The dress fell from Eleanor's shoulders, her hand jumping to keep from flashing her mother.

"What do you mean?"

"Well..." her mother pulled at her Pom-Pom of a ponytail. "That's the bad news. You have to move to Wichita with your aunt and uncle."


	13. Chapter 13

**_park_**

His arm twitched nervously as he sat at the counter, his mind eons above him. The thought of her hadn't left his mind since the funeral two days before. It came like a slap to the face just how much he needed her, but what a slap it was. That was the kind of sting he wished he could feel forever.

The twitch traveled to his palm. What if she came to the shop? No, that wasn't possible. She didn't know it existed. Did she? Even if she did, she wouldn't come. He knew that.

His fingers tugged at themselves. He needed to stop having all of these 'what if' thoughts. He needed to do something. He had to act. She came back in to his life suddenly, and she could leave just as fast.

He had to do something. Now. Before it was too late.

**_eleanor_**

There was a knock on the door. She wiped at the still present tears under her eyes.

"I got it, Mom," she yelled, trying not to let her crying show through. She opened the door. The face in the door smiled at her, and almost instantly, she slammed the door shut.

**_park_**

Was it something he said? No. He just smiled at her. His brows furrowed. Should he leave? No. He came all this way. He knocked the door again.

**_eleanor_**

This could not be happening. No way this was actually real. Park was not actually standing at her door right now. She ran her hands through her now puffy hair. Should she, like, let him in or something? Would that be okay?

No. She was just going to ignore it. That was what normal people did, right? They ignored their problems until they went away.

Another knock on the door. Oh yeah. She wasn't normal.

_**park**_

It must have been something he said. Or something he didn't say, maybe. Whatever it was, he had done something wrong. Terribly wrong. And he had to apologize. But that meant she had to open the door, and god only knew when she'd do that. He could be standing out here all day for all he knew. And for Eleanor, making him wait for her didn't seem like that much of a stretch.

But then, as if he had jinxed it, the door opened. And there, peering out at him with puffy eyes and swollen cheeks, was Eleanor. And she looked even more beautiful than the last time he saw her.


	14. Chapter 14

_**park**_

"Wichita?"

"Wichita." He shook his head.

"Who just moves to Wichita like that?" She shrugged.

"Someone out to ruin my life, probably." Park snorted.

"So are you gonna live with your aunt and uncle?"

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Park didn't say anything. "Trust me, I'm open to suggestions."

"You can come live with me." She smiled warmly at the ground, a chuckle escaping under her breath.

"I wish it was that easy."

"Why can't it be?" Park said, putting his hand firmly on her knee. "You don't deserve to have to go from house to house like that." He struggled to get her to look at him. "Move in with me, Eleanor."

"Seriously?" She looked up into his eyes, the light from a hidden sun dancing in her irises. "What kind of chick-flicks have you been watching while I was gone?"

"What do you mean?"

"That line?" She turned herself in his direction. "It's terrible. I expected something along the lines of 'come to the Sheridan side' or 'the grass is always greener in the Park'." He tightened his grip on her knee, the laughs now racking through him nearly taking him clear off her stoop.

"That was worse," he said between gasps of air. "Much, much worse."

_**eleanor **_

"Hey can I ask you something?" Park toyed with her bracelets.

"You just did."

"What did you mean by the letter?" Her brow furrowed and her eyes flickered to his knees.

"Letter…?"

"Yeah. You sent me th—"

"Oh." She shrugged. "Exactly what you think I meant." He shot her a look.

"Wow, uh, lemme see, what meaning can be hidden under the three vaguest words in history?"

"Is that even a word?"

"Don't change the subject." She looked at the ground guiltily. "Seriously. What in the hell was even going through your mind?"

"I just wanted you to stop."

"Stop what?"

"Just stop." He buried his face in his hands.

"How is that supposed to correlate for the lack of time we were together? And what if you were pregnant?" She laughed louder than either of them expected.

"I wouldn't just be writing you lame one-liners on a postcard if I was pregnant."


	15. Chapter 15

**_ eleanor_**

It was happening again. She was falling for him again. Fuck. All it took was one conversation. One string of pathetic sentences that fought way too hard to make sense. One scene of dialogue and she was done. The fork had been stuck in her. The fat lady had sang. A metaphorical cherub shot a metaphorical arrow in her metaphorical ass and she was phorically in love with him.

Was that even a word?

She hoped it was a word.

Park would laugh at her. And then say something like_ "only Shakespeare can make up words."_

_"What about Dr. Seuss?"_

_"When you can rhyme like Dr. Seuss and/or write like Shakespeare, you can say 'I told you so'."_

_"Does that mean you want me to start rhyming?"_

_"Please don't rhyme, Eleanor."_

_**park**_

His heart fluttered again as he battled with himself not to skip home. They had had a conversation. He was crossing that off of his bucket list when he got home.

He felt like dancing. This was _great_. Nothing could be better than this.

Wait, should he have kissed her?

Of course he should have. The question was, _could_ he have kissed her?

He probably could have. She may have even given him the signal, but he was too jittery to notice. And, of course, there was the fact that he was sort of in a_ relationship_.

Oh fuck. Cat. He had totally forgotten about that. Whoops.


	16. Chapter 16

**_eleanor_**

Maybe she should go see him. Maybe that wouldn't be too much. Although at the time, nothing felt like too much. She could write his name in the clouds and that would seem like a minor thing to her.

She should go see him. What's the worst that could happen, right?

**_park_**

"Cat, we need to talk."

"What do you mean?" she questioned. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, it's just that…we've been dating for a long time you know…"

"What are you trying to say, Park?"

"Cat—" The doorbell chimed. Suddenly, a burst of color walked into the dark store and Park could feel his heart flutter under his Styx tee. Eleanor walked up to the counter shyly, trying to ignore the glare that Cat was undoubtedly giving her.

"How can I help you?" he purred. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but it shut again as her eyes wandered around the store.

"It's very punk in here," Eleanor muttered. He smiled at her, watching as she admired the posters.

"Um, Park?" Cat interrupted, "Weren't you going to say something to me?"

"Actually, why don't you go home?" He glanced at his watch. "It's almost closing time. I'll lock up, you go before you miss that show you like so much."

"What about our conversation from earlier?"

"What about it?"

"Are we going to finish it?" He finally turned and faced her.

"Cat, I'm going to help out this customer and then head home, alright? I'm trying to get you out of working overtime to help. We can finish our conversation tomorrow."

"Fine." She crossed her arms and walked out the door, making sure the slam echoed in Park's brain.

"Am I really that much of a burden?" Eleanor asked.

"No," he said, grabbing her hand, "I just wanted her to leave so we could be alone."


End file.
